


all the things that you never ever told me

by SemperAeternumQue



Series: Never Coming Home [2]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Not Really Character Death, Swearing, a good third of it is just newsie swearing at him mentally, but only for a little bit, companion to all the smiles that are ever going to haunt me, mentions of scars, newsie deserves to say fuck 2k20, no beta we die like the fab four, not as bad as the companion fic, once again I find ten different ways to reference my other fics, so much swearing, the fab four are there, this is 3k words of me making Newsie sad, this is surprisingly like, well the fab four minus ghoul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25632913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SemperAeternumQue/pseuds/SemperAeternumQue
Summary: Cherri Cola goes missing.This is absolutely no fucking fun for anyone. Especially NewsAGoGo.
Relationships: Agent Cherri Cola & NewAGoGo
Series: Never Coming Home [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1865842
Comments: 13
Kudos: 13





	all the things that you never ever told me

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So, this isn't half as dark as the piece it's a companion to (all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me), but there's definitely some warnings to be wary of. Lots of mentions of death + a character is assumed to be dead, as well as some implied self-harm (although it could also be read as wavehead scars and thus past implied addiction). So be careful with all of that! 
> 
> You may want to read all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me first (https://archiveofourown.org/works/25153303). It's not 100% necessary to understand this but it does give better context. (Be very careful of the warnings and tags on that one, it's even darker.)

NewsAGoGo stared around the room, sunlight warm on her neck as she stood in the doorway. It was mid-afternoon at a radio station in the desert, and Newsie was trying very hard not to panic. Because Cherri fucking Cola, her best friend in the entire world (okay, there were some other people up there too, but Cherri was _practically_ her brother) was gone.

“Cherri! Cherri, you fucker, are you hiding somewhere?”

The radio station was silent. Newsie shut the door and wandered over to where he had been when they left this morning, scanning the area. The spot was empty; even the scraps of paper he used for writing poetry were gone, and there was no sign Cherri had ever even been there.

“Fucking hell, I’m going to yell at you when I find you!” The threat was empty, and so were the bedrooms of the station when Newsie checked there. In fact, the entire station seemed deserted, which was most unlike Cola. He took his responsibilities of watching the station seriously, generally only leaving it empty if he really needed to.

Newsie took one last look around the radio shack, trying to see if Cherri had left a note or something. There was none, and they decided he actually was gone, trying to figure out what the fuck she was going to do. First on her list was radio Dr. Death Defying- hopefully he would have some idea where Cherri had gone. Cherri sure as hell hadn’t radioed her about going anywhere, but sometimes he told D things he wouldn’t tell the rest of them. Not that Newsie was jealous or anything, but it did piss them off how goddamn secretive he was. 

They fiddled with the radio. _Please let him have told D something…_

“Hello?”

“Hey, D. Has Cherri told you anything about going somewhere?”

“No, he said he’d be back at the radio station all day.” She could hear concern in his voice. “I haven’t heard from him since this morning, actually. Why do you ask?”

“Because I just got home and Cherri isn’t fucking here.”

“Fuck.”

“Exactly.”

She heard a faint sigh. “Okay, Pony and I can probably be back there by say, sunset tonight if we’re willing to book it. Have you radioed him?”

“Don’t think he took a fucking radio with him, D.”

D sighed again. “Right. Stupid question, sorry. I’ll be there in a few hours, let me know if anything changes?”

“Got it.” Newsie turned off the radio before he could say anything else, looking around again. “Cola, you bastard, I’m going to fuck you up when I finally find you,” she muttered.

Predictably, given his absence, Cherri did not respond. That didn’t stop Newsie from keeping up a constant stream of swear words and threats as she searched the radio shack from top to bottom again. It wasn’t as if they actually expected Cherri to have suddenly appeared, but it gave them something to do that wasn’t ‘pick a random direction and see if he went that way’ or worry.

When she finally was forced to admit he wasn’t there at all, she headed outside and looked around there. Cherri’s truck was still parked next to the station, and Newsie frowned. Surely he wouldn’t have left without some reliable transport, right? It wasn’t like him to leave on foot, which only alarmed them further. She scouted for footsteps, and found marks that might have been a set of footsteps…and another group of marks that might have been a set, going the opposite way. And a third set. And varying other marks in the sand because it was a fucking desert and of _course_ the sand wasn’t going to be fucking smooth.

Newsie groaned and sat down on the radio station porch with a thump. Of all things to go wrong in her life, it had to be her fucking brother just vanishing into thin air? At least he could have left a fucking note if he was just going to run off like that.

D and Show Pony arrived back a few hours later, right at sunset like they promised. Newsie was still sitting on the porch, unable to muster the will to get up. Goddamn Cherri Cola and his reluctance to tell them fucking anything.

Pony skate over, offering them a hand. “Hey, Newsie!” 

Newsie took it and pulled herself up. “Hey, Pone.”

“So our trouble-causing Cola up and left, huh?”

“Guess so, given that he’s not fucking here.”

To eir credit, Pony didn’t even flinch at the harsh words. “Well, we’ll find him. And give him a good bit of shit for this!”

“We sure fucking will,” Newsie muttered. 

D came over with a sigh. “So what do we know for sure?”

“Cherri isn’t fucking here. His truck is though, and doesn’t look like there are tire tracks from other vehicles. I’m guessing he’s on foot.”

“That’s…concerning. Why would he leave on foot?”

“Fuck if I know.”

“Right. Let’s look until it gets too dark, and tomorrow we’ll ask if anyone’s seen him on the broadcast, assuming he’s not back by then.”

He wasn’t. 

Newsie was starting to get scared. It felt like some part of her had been expecting to wake up to Cherri snoring on the sofa, or conked out on the mattress next to her, or bustling around the kitchen while Show Pony shouted ‘you better not make that cursed tea!’. Like they would wake up and everything would be back to normal. But Cherri wasn’t asleep on the sofa or mattress, and he wasn’t in the kitchen either. He wasn’t home at all. 

It wasn’t uncommon for Cherri to leave for a few days at a time when everything started to be too much for him- he would drive out into the desert and spend a while wandering, doing who-knows-what before returning, a little bit sunburned but smiling again. But unlike this time, he always left a note. Even on the days when he would hardly say a word, he didn’t leave without some way to tell the others where he had gone.

Right now, Newsie was sitting on the desk next to where D was as he made the broadcast, only listening to every other word.

“Hello there, crash queens and tumbleweeds. We’ve got some unfortunate news from the Zones…it seems that our favorite radio poet, lovely Cherri Cola, has gone missing. So if anyone’s got news of a ‘joy in a battered green jacket, pretty tall, with scars all up and down his arms and blue eyes like the sea, bring it on over to me here at Dr. Death Defying’s radio station. You can also send it to DJs NewsAGoGo and Hot Chimp, or tell our favorite zonerunner Show Pony. And if you see the man himself, could you tell him to get himself down to the station? He’s got us worried over here. This is Dr. Death Defying, signing off.”

What followed that announcement was a lot of searching. And waiting. And more waiting. And more searching. Newsie didn’t want to admit it, but she was terrified. Cherri had never been exactly stable, although these days he was more so than before, and she was terrified both of what had driven him to leave and what could have happened to him.

That night, they went into their room and searched around, locating the bright pink mask from where Cherri kept it tucked away. Newsie was the only one who knew its location, and she knew it would be her task to take it to the mailbox. If he died now. _If_. They couldn’t forget that it was an ‘if’, not a certainty. Cherri would come back. Cherri had to come back.

The edges of the mask were digging into her fingers. They had been clutching it more tightly than they thought, holding onto the mask (Cherri’s soul, her mind whispered) as if that would bring him magically back home. 

It wasn’t the pain of the mask’s edges that made her cry. 

“Destroya, Cherri-“ they wiped fiercely at their eyes. “Could you have picked a worse-“ _sniffle_ \- “fucking time?” There was no response, of course, but Newsie went on. “If you could just-“ _sniffle_ \- “have picked a fucking time when-“ _sniffle_ \- “when I wasn’t already sad? And-“ _sniffle_ \- “couldn’t you just fucking come _home_?” Their voice broke on the last word, rendering coherent speech impossible, but they managed to choke out a small “You fucker.”

The rest of the room was still silent.

The next morning, Newsie slid Cherri’s bright pink ray gun into her spare holster, tucked the mask into her bag, and tromped down to breakfast. She avoided the other’s eyes, knowing the walls of the radio station were thin. Thankfully, everyone else seemed no more eager to meet their eyes, and it was a quiet breakfast before they all split off to search again. 

All their search turned up was empty desert, day after day, and it wasn’t exactly easy to cling to hope when there hadn’t been any supplies missing from the radio station either. So Cherri Cola was out in the desert without food and water, and had been for three days.

* * *

“He’s not dead.”

The others looked over at her. It was dinner that night, another silent meal of power pup as everyone tried not to look at Cherri’s empty place.

“I know it seems like he should be. But he’s not dead,” Newsie repeated. They didn’t know why it felt so important to say that, but they had to.

“Of course not!” That was Show Pony, looking outraged. “Cola’s lived through too much to just- just _die_.”

“We have to face the reality-“

“No! Shut up, D. Cherri’s not going to fucking die!”

D sighed. “We have to face the reality that Cherri may not come back.”

Newsie stood and slammed her hands on the table, the sound ringing through the room. “No! Fuck you! I can’t- I refuse to lose my bro- Cherri!”

“I know it’s-“

“No! Fuck you!” They repeated. “I don’t care what you think, he’s not dead!”

D opened his mouth again, but Newsie had had enough. Enough of searching, enough of waiting, enough of sitting there and pretending that everything was fine. Enough of D’s stupid fucking gentle voice, as if any amount of gentleness could soften the blow his words delivered. They turned and fled into the back, pressing a fist to their mouth to muffle the sobs. 

No one came to check on her, and Newsie half-wondered in some tired corner of her mind if Cherri was alone like this, wondering if someone would come to find him. And they _would have_ , they would have come find him in a heartbeat if they knew where he was. But no one came to find Newsie, and she curled up alone until her eyes were dry again, falling into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

“Hello, child.”

Newsie blinked at the person (bird?) in front of her. “What.”

“I said ‘hello, child’.” The human- bird- whatever- examined her taloned hands.

“Okay, I know what you said, but…what?”

They could have sworn the bird rolled her eyes. “I would hope you’d recognize me, NewsAGoGo.”

“You better not be the fucking Phoenix Witch.”

“Ta-da, it’s me.” The Witch’s voice was deadpan.

Newsie figured if she was going to talk to a fucking deity, she might as well be comfortable. So she sat down on what felt like sand, realizing that she was definitely not where she had fallen asleep. In fact, the landscape here was barren, devoid of buildings or life, and the sky was…purple? Newsie decided it wasn’t even worth questioning.

“So, am I dreaming?”

“Yes, but this is all very real, I assure you.”

“If it’s a dream, how is it real?”

The Witch was definitely rolling her eyes. “I’m a deity. I can talk to people in their sleep. You and your brother- yes, I mean who you’re thinking of- are easier than most, actually. You always had a bit too strong of a connection to the spirit world, NewsAGoGo.”

Her head was fucking spinning. “You can read my mind? Wait, Cherri is connected to you the same way? Where is he? Is he alive?”

“Yes, yes, can’t tell you, for now.”

“Why can’t you fucking tell me?”

“Can’t meddle with fate too much, now, can I?”

“You’re a _goddess_. You’re the goddess _of_ fate.”

“I won’t mess with the threads I wove, NewsAGoGo.”

Newsie glared at her. “Can you at least tell me if he’s going to be okay?”

“No can do.” The Phoenix Witch seemed annoyingly casual about the whole business.

“Fuck you! Fuck you, I want to see my fucking brother!”

“You want to see him?”

“Can you do that?”

“I _am_ a deity.” The Witch waved her clawed hand, sending them both spinning through the dreamscape, dissolving into a blur of colors and shapes before they reformed in what seemed to be the actual desert, stars twinkling above them. They were standing over what first appeared to be a dead body, and Newsie soon realized was Cherri. He was slumped in the sand, eyes closed and skin sunburned, and the more she looked, the more he seemed like he was dead.

“Is he- is-“ Newsie’s throat wouldn’t form the words, even in a dream.

“He’s not dead. Yet.”

“Is he going to die?”

“Can’t tell you that.”

“Why bring me here? Why show me him?” 

“You asked.” The Witch shrugged. “I was feeling indulgent. But the reason I bothered to visit you at all wasn’t because of your brother.”

“Then, pray tell, what the fuck was it?” 

The Phoenix Witch was smiling, not unkindly. “You, NewsAGoGo, don’t know just how much you’re worth. You refuse to believe you’re loved, even if you are.”

Newsie jerked away from her gaze. “Shut up.”

The Witch laughed. “You’re a bold one, aren’t you? But not bold enough to face the truth. The truth is, NewsAGoGo, that if your Cherri survives, it will be because of his love for you. He loves you so much, you know. Thinks of you as his sibling, and refers to you like that too.”

Newsie glanced down at the figure in the sand. “Didn’t know he ever did that.”

“Oh, all the time. He’s so proud to know you and be your friend. He might be bad at saying it, but oh does he love you. And so do Show Pony and DJ Hot Chimp and my favorite Dr. Death Defying.”

It might have been petty of her, but “They didn’t come to find me.”

“Not today, no. And they’ve dropped the ball on that a lot. But it’s not for a lack of caring, only a lack of knowledge. Your friends do not know how to get through to you. They’re trying, but they haven’t figured it out yet. They don’t know what to say or do to comfort you and make you believe that you’re loved. You all speak different languages when it comes to love. They’re trying to learn how to speak yours. If you try to understand theirs, you’ll find that they’re practically yelling ‘I love you’.” The Witch’s words were blunt, but there was a strange sort of sympathy on her bird-like face.

Newsie stared at the sand. “Just take me home.”

“As you wish.” She waved her clawed hand and the desert twisted, returning to the dreamscape from before. A bracelet clinked against her wrist as she did, and Newsie could have sworn it looked familiar. 

“Hey, what’s-“ Before they could finish their question, the dreamscape vanished and they woke with a jolt and a cry of “Cherri!” on their lips. Although there was no evidence to indicate the Witch had been there at all, Newsie remembered the dream clear as anything, right down to Cherri’s still form.

“Cherri!”

They heard footsteps outside, and Pony came hurrying in. “Newsie? Newsie, sugar?”

“Cherri!” It seemed like all she could say. “I saw- he’s- he’s alive but he’s almost dead but-“

“Oh, hon…”

“No, I swear, Pone. He’s alive.” 

D was there too, somehow, squeezing Newsie’s hand. “Are you sure?”

“I know I sound like I’m imagining shit, but the Phoenix Witch showed me.” She could picture his body clear as day. “Showed up in my dreams, said nothing helpful except that he wasn’t dead yet.” Newsie left out the rest of what the Phoenix Witch had said. They didn’t need to know that. 

There was genuine worry in his eyes. “Did she show you anything about where he was?”

“Fucking nothing, because of course we can’t ‘meddle with fate’.”

It didn’t even occur to Newsie until later that the worry in D’s eyes wasn’t just for Cherri.

That worry didn’t go away, since they still couldn’t find Cherri. It somehow seemed more hopeless now that she had gotten a glimpse of him- he was so close, and yet so far away. And by the end of the next week, Newsie had almost given up. There hadn’t been any word of Cherri, and they hadn’t seen a single glimpse of him in their search. Newsie knew he wouldn’t have survived a week out in the desert in that state, but something kept her from taking his mask to the mailbox. Maybe it was hope, maybe it was sheer spite. Cherri might be fucking dead but that didn’t mean she had to accept it. 

The others didn’t seem to have accepted it either- neither of them had brought up Cherri’s mask at all, and Newsie didn’t see why she should. In fact, no one brought it up until the end of that week.

“If-“ D’s voice was as smooth as ever, trained by his years of being a DJ, but Newsie thought she caught a tiny shake as he paused and went on again. “If Cherri doesn’t come back, we need to know where his mask is.”

“I have it. But we won’t need it.”

“You-“

“He told me where it was. His ray gun, too.”

D sighed, and they couldn’t tell if it was relief or worry. “Good. We might- we probably won’t, but we might need it.”

They didn’t. Because that very afternoon, a knock sounded on the door.

“I’ll get that,” Show Pony said as D rubbed his face tiredly. Ey got up and opened the door, and Newsie could hear a vague bit of conversation before ey shouted something that sounded like ‘Destroya!’.

“Newsie! Dr. D! Get out here!”

Newsie followed eir shout and hurried to the door, ready to demand what the fuck all the fuss was about. But all her words evaporated when she reached the doorway and saw who was standing outside. Three teenagers, yes, but more importantly, a familiar ‘joy in a green jacket.

He seemed to spot her there, giving her a wane smile. “Hey.”

There were a thousand things she wanted to say and no words to say them with, so she settled on “Cherri FUCKING Cola, you complete and utter BASTARD!”

When in doubt, swear a lot. That was a good motto, right? When in doubt, swear and hug people. That was what she proceeded to do, throwing her arms around Cherri and holding him tightly, still swearing all the while. “You fucker, you little dipshit, you absolute dumbass, we thought you were fucking dead! We thought you were fucking dead, fuckwad!”

“I’m sorry, Newsie.” His voice was sincere, but Newsie had over a week’s worth of bottled anger and worry, and they weren’t forgiving him that easily. 

“You better fucking be! Rat bastard!”

She was vaguely aware, out of the corner of her eye, that D had rolled out of the station as well, giving Cherri a fierce hug of his own and a fair bit of lecturing. “You scared us all half to death, Cherri!”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“He almost died too, but of heatstroke, not of fright,” contributed one of the teenagers.

“That doesn’t make me feel any fucking better,” Newsie muttered. Who were these kids anyways?

“Also, infection and dehydration,” a second added.

Cherri sighed, a familiar tired sound. “Not helping, guys.”

“Who are these fine ‘joys?” Pony asked.

The third teen grinned. “The Terrific Trio! Well, the name is a work in progress. I’m Jet Star. He/him and they/them.”

“Party Poison. They/them. And I’m in charge,” said the one who had added ‘also infection and dehydration’.

The first one snorted. “Kobra Kid. He/him.”

“They saved my life,” Cherri chimed in. Newsie gave them a suspicious look, knowing Cherri’s track record of trusting ‘joys who weren’t all that nice, but if they really had saved his life they couldn’t be half bad.

She was still caught up in hugging Cherri, but she could hear the smile in D’s voice as he next spoke. Well, we’re very glad you did. I’m Dr. Death Defying, he/him.”

“NewsAGoGo, she/they.”

“An’ I’m Show Pony. Ey/em.”

Newsie was vaguely aware that the teens came in with them and that D offered them some power pup, but she was more concerned with swearing at Cherri. He tolerated it with a faint smile, clearly aware that he deserved a bit of fucking swearing after all that. He still seemed a little bit battered, and there was a new set of scars on his arms, but he was alive and home. And maybe that was all she could ask for, knowing he was safe as he fiddled with one of his bracelets- but not the usual one. In fact, the bracelet he always fiddled with, the one Newsie had given him, was gone. 

Newsie was about ninety percent certain they knew where it was, thinking back to the Witch as he glanced down at his wrist with a soft smile. 

“Hey, Newsie, what do you think about making another bracelet?”

**Author's Note:**

> For clarity, Newsie's conversation with the Phoenix Witch in this *does* take place after Cherri's conversation with the Phoenix Witch in all the smiles, so the Witch knows he's going to survive, she just won't tell Newsie that. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this here or on tumblr @always-and-forever-a-killjoy!


End file.
